Page 62 of The Sun
“Ah, come on, Sunny,” Thomas said. “That was my best handwriting.”
“You’re a dick!”
The class snickered. Thomas’ cheeks reddened, and he sank a little in his seat. “I guess you’re a gay rights activist or something?”
“No, I’m just not an asshole.” I dropped the eraser and glared at Thomas on my way back to my desk.
Daisy’s eyes were wide, her brow furrowed. “They’re just being guys.”
“No. They’re being pricks.”
I pulled out my notebook and pen, resting my head on my hand as I scribbled out the date. Students continued to trickle into the class. I made the mistake of glancing up from my desk when Elias walked into the room. He gave me a cold stare, and I shot one right back, my pulse ratcheting up with such fury I had to grip the edge of my desk to keep myself grounded.
Miss Weaver skirted in just as the bell rang, and I committed not to look at Elias for the rest of class. I tried to pay attention to the notes onGatsby, the irony that betrayal was laced throughout that book was not lost on me.
Miss Weaver capped the whiteboard marker and turned to face the room. “Can anyone tell me what they felt was the greatest betrayal in the book?” She scanned the class and then smiled when she found someone willing to answer. “Elias?”
I heard the desk scrape the floor, but I refused to look over. “Gatsby spent all this time trying to get Daisy Buchanan to love him. That’s all he wanted. He wasted his life chasing that girl. Every wrong decision he made was in an attempt to win her over. And in the end, Gatsby finds out she loved another man.”
Daisy stuck her leg into the aisle between us, tapping the toe of her shoe against the floor as she cleared her throat. I glanced over, and she motioned her eyes toward Elias who shot a death glare in my direction. His defined jaw tensed.
I dropped my gaze to my paper while a slow heat burned over my chest.
“So, Daisy’s betrayal of Gatsby?” Miss Weaver asked.
“No. Gatsby’s betrayal of himself. He wasted his life on a girl who never really loved him even though she said she did.”
My cheeks smoldered, and I began to bounce my leg underneath my desk.
“Very profound, Elias.”
How dare he have the audacity to glare at me like I had done something to him. He ignored me. He told me I was too good. He messed around with Jenny Smith before he kissed me and took me home with him. I couldn’t help myself. I raised my hand, my foot still twitching under my desk.
Miss Weaver called on me.
“I disagree. I think Gatsby’s self-doubt made her question the way he felt about her. Maybe she just told Gatsby she loved Tom to see Gatsby’s reaction.” My heart drummed up to my throat, but I didn’t dare look at Elias.
Daisy kept fake coughing which was enough to ensure me Elias was looking.
“Oh, very good point, Miss Lower.”
“What a load of crap!” Elias laughed, and that time, I did look at him. Our eyes locked in a cold I-hate-that-I-ever-loved-you stare. “She promised Gatsby she’d wait on him, and she didn’t!”
“Ahem.” Miss Weaver took a step toward the class. “I love that you two are into this debate, but we should try to use our inside voices.”
Closing my eyes, I inhaled to calm my shaking voice. “What was she supposed to do, Elias? At least she didn’t give him a necklace back! Besides, I’m pretty sure Gatsby had some brunette on the side the whole time.”
“If I were him, I’d have made it a blonde.”
The class erupted in laughter. Miss Weaver tried to quiet everyone with a quick snap of her fingers. She glanced between Elias and me. “No need to yell.”
“He thought he needed to obtain a certain social status to win her over. I guess he thought she was too good for him.” That was a dig. A cold. Hard. Dig.
“And Tom was a fucking rich dick!” His voice boomed around the room. Half of the guys were about to topple out of their chairs from laughter. The girls were all whispering—except Daisy and Jenny and me.
Miss Weaver clapped her hands. “Elias! That’s not appropriate language.”
“I apologize, Miss Weaver. I come from a low social bracket. I hope you understand.”
